


Many Moments of Incredulity

by Wolven_Spirits



Series: Harry Potter Masters Death [2]
Category: Avatar (2009), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Harry is a flirt, Harry needs a vacation, Humor, Master of Death Harry Potter, Poor overworked Harry the Minion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 20:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17454101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolven_Spirits/pseuds/Wolven_Spirits
Summary: Harry had a job to do and Eywa was playing hard to get. All Harry really wanted was to earn his vacation time. Or: In which Harry is a shameless flirt to get the job done.





	Many Moments of Incredulity

**Author's Note:**

> So I swear this was supposed to be a super short one-shot. It’s still a one-shot but it evolved more than I had intended. Anyway, just a little something that came to mind. Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Avatar or Harry Potter.

**Many Moments of Incredulity**

 

Harry grumbled as he yanked one of the arrows from his body. They were well made and sturdy, and he could certainly admire the craftsmanship, but he would probably like them more if they hadn’t been embedded within him. Not that they could really hurt him, but it was the principle of the matter.

He was not exactly shocked at his reception. He supposed he could have used a little more tact when appearing before the natives, but he hadn’t realized just how paranoid and trigger happy they were. Though, considering the state of affairs he had seen thus far, it was certainly well-warranted.

He glanced up as he heard shouting, heavy footsteps, and the click of guns.

Lovely.

He glanced around him at the large cement strip. It looked far more like a military base than a research and mining fort, but he couldn’t say that he was particularly surprised. Harry often wondered if the seven sins had been incorporated into human DNA, but he had never quite had the guts to ask. The sins were a prickly bunch.

Harry inspected the tip of the arrow he had just yanked out of his arm and admired the lethality of the poison that covered it. Harmless to him, of course, but it most certainly had been the cause of death for many of the humans who had come to Pandora.

The shouting drew nearer, and he pulled away from his study, taking in the shocked faces that surrounded him. Well, of what he could see, anyway. They had their faces completely covered in glass with tubes that attached to packs on their backs.

Ah. Right. Poisonous air and all that.

He scratched the back of his head as he gave a little wave.

Someone started shouting orders and he found himself quickly herded towards a large entrance.

“Hurry up, before you die, you idiot!” The soldier behind him looked about ready to pick him up and sprint there himself.

Harry frowned, slightly offended, but nonetheless picked up his pace to a light trot. He needed their cooperation, after all.

Medics swarmed him the moment the door closed. There was a stretcher waiting for him, and they looked rather panicked when he tried to brush them off.

“I’m perfectly fine,” he scowled as he slapped away yet another set of hands. He reached down and yanked another arrow, this time from his leg. There was no blood, though for a moment there was a black gash marring his skin before it disappeared in a flurry of dark tendrils. “Ah, could you get the ones in my back, though? I can’t reach those ones.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

Next thing he knew, someone had picked him up and plopped him face first onto the stretcher. Before he could protest any further, he was carted away to the medic bay.

“Seriously,” He protested. “I’m _fine_!”

“Fine?” The doctor all but shrieked. “You’ve got poisoned arrows sticking out of you, and you’re telling me you’re fine? Not to mention breathing all that Pandora air… You’re lucky you’re even alive.” Then he was snapping out orders to the nurses, who scrambled to obey, pale and frantic the moment they saw Harry.

“I’m not - “

“Quiet, or I’ll put you under,” The doctor snapped as he pulled on gloves and a face mask.

Harry scowled but lay there obediently as they cut away his shirt. He really wanted to protest again. He _liked_ that shirt. But the medic had a manic look on his face and Harry didn’t want to have to deal with his ire.

Honestly, this had so far been one of the more frustrating jobs he’d had. Still, if it all went well, perhaps he’d get that vacation he’d been promised for the last… god knows how many centuries.

The soldiers hovered by the door, but didn’t come any closer for fear of the medic’s glower. Which was fair. No need to anger the one who could save your life.

“This one’s deep. It’s going to hurt,” The doctor warned before he pulled out one of the arrows. The nurse automatically began to disinfect the area, only to notice a distinct lack of blood.

Harry wondered if he should conjure some fake blood, but… well, he supposed it was a little late now, considering how shocked they all appeared to be.

The doctor hesitated, an odd look on his face, before he reached forward and pulled out the second arrow. This time the nurse didn’t move. Sure enough, Harry’s wound mended itself within seconds, leaving not even a scar behind.

“P-poison antidote…” The doctor managed, holding out a trembling hand.

“Really,” Harry sighed. “Not necessary.” He sat up, and tried not to feel too amused at the way the medics jumped backwards.

“W-what are you? H-how…” The doctor stared at him with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing as if wishing to say more but not quite able to form the words.

Harry sniffed at the question. How very rude. “My name is Harry Potter. I’m an ambassador. And while I appreciate your efforts, medical treatment is really not necessary.”

The doctor stared at him open-mouthed for a moment, before he seemed to shake himself from his stupor. Harry had to admire his ability to adapt to strange situations. But then again he supposed that the whole of Pandora was a strange situation.

“Ambassador?” The medic glanced at one of the soldiers, who shook his head.

“Get Quaritch,” The soldier ordered. Someone scrambled off behind him.

The doctor and his nurses milled uncertainly until the soldier ordered them out, gun still pointed at Harry. “We’ll call you if he starts dying,” he snarked, when the doctor made a final hesitation, glancing back almost worriedly at Harry.

Harry gave what he hoped was a reassuring wave. Really, the doctor had done a good job, and had Harry actually been injured, might have even saved his life. That deserved a wave at the very least, in Harry’s opinion.

Harry watched the soldiers idly. The blue-eyed one would die in a couple days. The other would last another few weeks. Short lifespan here on Pandora, it seemed.

It wasn’t long before strong footsteps came their way. The soldiers straightened and saluted as a tall man entered the room. Towering, muscled, and scarred. He commanded the soldiers with enviable ease as he strolled up to Harry, arms motioning to the soldiers behind him, silently ordering them to stay on guard.

This man, Harry noted curiously, was an oddity. He would die soon, and yet… he would not. How very strange. He wondered if it was the result of living on Pandora for so long. If humans stayed here long enough, would they be integrated into the very being of the planet the way all creatures here were? How very, very curious.

“So,” The man rumbled. “Mr. Ambassador. Breathin’ Pandora air, unaffected by their arrows… you some kind of alien, Mr. Ambassador?”

Harry blinked. “Alien?” He mused, head tilted. “No,” he said. “Not an alien. I am here on business though,” he reassured, seeing the man’s skeptical expression.

“Business,” Quaritch said flatly. “There’s only one business on Pandora, and you sure aren’t a part of it. Never seen you before. When’d you get here? Stow away?” His fingers twitched, and Harry didn’t doubt that the man would love for nothing more than to pull out his gun and shoot the unknown.

“Ah, I arrived just a few days ago. Had to do some scouting, you see. Had a run-in with the natives who, unfortunately, took rather much offence to my presence. Nonetheless, I have business with them. So I came here to find, er, Grace, I believe. I was told she could help me.” He smiled as innocently as possible.

Quaritch, it seemed, was as skeptical as they came.

“Business with the natives?” The man eyed him dubiously. “They don’t like us. We don’t like them. Don’t see what kinda business you could have with them.”

Harry rolled a shoulder in a languid shrug. “Well, not with them per se, but they are a necessary intermediary.”

Quaritch was silent for a moment, his eyes searching Harry’s figure for any hidden weapons or threats. Seeing nothing but a small, slightly thin man, he finally grunted. “What makes you think she’ll help you?”

“I don’t know that she will,” Harry admitted. “But if you could tell her that I have an appointment with Eywa, it would be greatly appreciated.”

At this, Quaritch raised his eyebrows, disbelief written all over his face. Harry tried not to be too offended. He was fairly used to this type of behaviour after so many years at this job, but still.

Nonetheless, Quaritch nodded at one of the soldiers, who trotted off obediently. “You’ll wait here,” The man ordered Harry, who raised an eyebrow but nodded. Then the man left the room with orders not to let anyone but himself and Grace enter. Or leave.

Harry stood up and stretched, noting with a slight frown the state of his shirt. He smoothed a hand down the rips that he could see, mending the fabric. He hesitated, but then, deciding that he had probably missed some spots on his back, he reaching into his pocket and pulled out his robe.

It was a nice robe - fitted around the shoulders and waist much like a suit jacket, and certainly very handsome - and he really should have been wearing it straight from the beginning, but still, it was so formal, and Harry had never been very good at that kind of thing. It was his official uniform though, and if he wanted to be taken seriously, he should probably wear it. Not to mention, his Boss liked to remind Harry just how much effort he had put into making his uniform in an attempt to guilt him into wearing it full time. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t appreciate it, but sometimes he really did miss the simple shapelessness it had held back when it was simply a cloak.

He slipped it on and had just finished buttoning it up when a stern-looking woman with a shock of red hair strode into the room, and for a moment Harry _remembered_.

_Seven siblings. No, only six. The warmth of an all-engulfing hug. Was this what it felt like to have a mother?_

Harry blinked away the images. They were from far too many lifetimes ago.

The woman eyed him critically for a moment, an unlit cigarette in one hand, coffee cup in the other. “Name’s Grace Augustine.”

“Harry Potter,” He nodded politely. Another one, he noted idly as he assessed her in return, who resonated the way Quaritch did. Fascinating.

“You’re an ambassador,” she continued as if he had not spoken at all, “and you have a meeting with… Eywa.” Her lips were pursed and she seemed rather unimpressed as she stared at him.

Harry nodded as cordially as he could. Because really, if he were in their shoes, he would likely be just as skeptical. Still, they were making his job rather more complicated.

“I am indeed,” he said. “A rather overdue meeting, in fact.”

“Ambassador of… what exactly now?” She asked. Behind her, Quaritch hovered. Her eyes flicked back in slight annoyance, but she made no other sign of recognition.

“Think of me as a… spiritual liaison, if you will,” he said as he waved his hands in a vague motion. “Eywa has been expecting me.”

“Eywa has been - “ she raised her eyebrows. “Do you even know who - what - Eywa _is_?” She asked, hands gesturing in a manner that threatened to spill her coffee.

“Of course,” Harry frowned. “Rather hard to miss a whole planet.”

Grace stilled as she stared at him almost… curiously. Her eyes flicked along his foreign garb, slowly starting to take in the way he held himself with utmost stillness. The way his hair didn’t seem to end, but instead wisped into the air. The way his eyes deepened the longer she stared.

“And why is it,” she said finally as she dragged her eyes away from his, “that you need me?”

“Ah,” Harry said, a little embarrassed. “You see, she submitted her complaint over a decade ago, but Boss had a backload of work, and I’ve only just managed to start working on her file.” He shifted, his hand reaching up to ruffle his hair. “I think she’s a little peeved that it took so long, so I’ve been having a hard time locating her. I’ve searched the jungle a little but I keep running into the natives, and they don’t take too kindly to me.” He gestured at the arrows that still littered the floor. “Didn’t want to worsen her impression of me, so I figured I should go through the official route. I - uh - gathered - “ his eyes shifted away for a moment, “that you would be the best person to help me.”

They were all staring at him with wide eyes.

“Uhuh,” said Grace finally.

“Look, it doesn’t really matter whether you believe me or not,” Harry said as he crossed his arms. “I’m merely requesting your aide in contacting Eywa. She has been… hiding her presence from me, and it is making my job a lot harder than it needs to be.”

Slowly - painfully slowly - Grace’s expression changed from incredulity to cautious intrigue.

“Well,” she said, her eyes darting to Quaritch, who was still eyeing Harry in a most skeptical manner, “I will have to ask the Na’vi for permission first. I’m afraid it may take a little while to convince them. They are… not the most trusting. There have been some… conflicts between the Na’vi and - us.”

Harry nodded. “That’s fine,” he said. “I appreciate your help,” he added politely.

Grace nodded, glared at Quaritch when the man opened his mouth to object, and strode from the room.

“Take him to a holding cell,” the colonel commanded. He glared at Harry. “We’ll be keeping a close eye on you. I don’t trust you.”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t expect you to,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He then allowed the soldiers to guide him to a small cell-like room that housed a small cot in one corner and a toilet in another.

Lovely.

Well, it wasn’t like he couldn’t leave if they decided to try and keep him here permanently. Might as well play along.

Reclining on the small bed, he withdrew a large journal and a pen that certainly shouldn’t have fit in his pocket and began to write. He had passed quite a few souls so far, and it was always easier to keep track of their dates of death when he wrote them down as soon as he could.

He whistled a funereal tune as he worked, enjoying the way it made his guards twitch. Every time someone new walked by he would nod and write in his journal. He could see their muscles start to tense when they caught on. Every once in a while he would glance up at them, see them watching him, and smile.

He was, perhaps, being a little unnecessarily cruel, but it was just a bit of fun. They’d forget about him pretty soon anyway, so there wouldn’t be any lasting mental damage. Maybe a few odd dreams, but nothing more. It wouldn’t do for mortals to delve too deeply into the abyss, after all.

It was many hours later that a message arrived. The Na’vi had agreed to meet with him to determine if he was truthful and worthy. Progress. That was good. A slight delay, but Eywa already knew he was here and searching so she really couldn’t complain if it took him a little while to find her. Not when she was the one hiding.

Really, Harry thought as he sighed, she was a relatively young planet, but _still_. For a moment Harry swore he heard the faint sound of laughter.

Harry opened his eyes when the door opened early the next day. He waved off the offer of food, and followed the soldiers to where Grace was waiting for him. He then had to refuse an exopack multiple times. They only stopped when he forced the door open, strode outside, never faltering.

He enjoyed the helicopter ride, and was, in all, feeling fairly optimistic about the whole situation as they approached Hometree. They received many curious stares, and Grace was greeted quite enthusiastically, but Harry was not particularly bothered by the wariness he encountered when they saw him. He was tempted to use a simple notice-me-not charm on himself until they reached their destination, but he was not sure how Eywa would respond to the use of magic on her Children - directly or indirectly. So, the honest route it was. Harry tried not to sigh again. Such a troublesome job this was turning out to be.

“I see you,” Grace greeted in Na’vi custom to the two regal beings who stood before her.

Truly, Harry had to admire, Eywa’s children were magnificent. A gentle wind stirred his hair.

Then their attention turned to him. “I present to you Harry Potter, Ambassador and Spiritual Liaison of… Earth,” she ended with a slight frown when she realized that he had never truly answered her earlier question.

He bowed deeply when he was introduced first to Eytukan, the leader of the clan. Within him, Harry could see a great strength - both of body and mind. “I am afraid I do not know your customs,” he said. “But know that I honour you as great leader of your clan.” Polite and to the point. He gave himself a mental pat on the back when Eytukan nodded his acceptance. Though Harry’s gesture was foreign to them, there was an instinctive reaction to the vulnerability he showed when he dipped his head down, exposing his neck, and lowering his eyes in a show of trust.

He repeated the same bow when he was then introduced to Mo’at, their Tsahik. Within her… he could see Eywa’s touch. As if she breathed through this vessel.

Mo’at, too, nodded, though wariness lingered. And Harry knew that she could _see_ what others could not.

“Why have you come to us, Ambassador of the Sky People? Have your people not already sent enough of their own to bargain with us?” Mo’at approached him slowly. “You claim you have an… appointment…” Her tongue faltered at the foreign word, “with Eywa. What is it you seek?”

There were murmurs around them at her words. For a Sky Person to have the audacity to demand an audience with the Sacred Mother…

Harry nodded. “Yes, she requested a meeting a few years ago, and I do apologize for the delay. I’m afraid this was the soonest I could come.”

“And why should we allow you to approach her? What makes you think we would trust you?”

Harry opened his mouth to reply when he was interrupted but a shout.

“You!” There was a Na’vi moving through the crowd, making his way toward them. “Demon.” He moved to stand between Harry and the clan leaders. “I shot you. You should be dead.” Golden eyes narrowed. “You dare trespass again?”

“Tsu’tey.”

At the sound of his name, the Na’vi paused, glancing back at Eytukan.

“This is the Sky Person who appeared yesterday?”

Tsu’tey nodded. “We drove him off. He was shot with multiple arrows. He should have died from the wounds, if not the poison.” He returned his gaze to Harry, muscles tense.

Eytukan turned his gaze upon Harry. “Yet he appears unharmed. Tell me, Harry Potter. How is it you are still alive?”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t really blame their suspicion, not when their own had already been killed by humans. “I’m not a Sky Person,” he admitted, ignoring their disbelieving looks. “My form,” he gestured towards himself, “is as false just as Grace Augustine’s current form is a false body.” Murmurs rose once again. They were skeptical, but having seen Grace’s body, they did not outright dismiss his claims.

“Grace,” Mo’at said. “Jakesully, what is this… science. Is it like yours?”

Grace was shaking her head. Another Avatar, this one male, stepped up next to her. He was frowning at Harry. Then he too shook his head. “Nothing like I’ve ever seen,” he said.

“Then he lies,” Tsu’tey hissed, hand going to the knife at his side.

“I speak no lies,” Harry replied calmly. His eyes turned to Mo’at. “You can see it, can’t you. That I speak the truth.”

She stepped forward, quelling Tsu’tey with a _look_ when he tried to stop her. She unsheathed her knife and nicked just under his collarbone where his skin showed. She stared at the dark wound that swiftly disappeared, then at the knife which held no blood. Then she reached out with a hand larger than his head, and rested a finger on his neck.

Harry tilted his head slightly, not fighting her, even as he felt her energy swirl curiously towards him. He did not resist as she - and Eywa - peered… _into_ him. Her eyes widened slightly, then she stepped back with a slight nod.

“He speaks the truth,” said Mo’at as she sheathed her dagger. “Despite the skin he wears, he is not of the Sky People.”

Grace and Jakesully were both staring at him, mouths ajar in disbelief. The Na’vi looked curious, but wary. Harry wanted to sigh, but he kept still. Baby steps, he told himself.

“Then what is his true form?” A female Na’vi asked as she stepped up beside Jakesully.

Harry frowned. At one point, this had been his true form. He had once been human, after all. But now… “I… do not have one,” he said, rolling his shoulder in a shrug. “I am not a human. I am an… entity, I suppose you could call me. I take this form because it is one I had when I was alive. I am no longer alive, and thus I cannot die,” he said, glancing at Tsu’tey, who frowned. Because if Harry could not die, then they had no defence against him.

He could see them tensing as they all came to the same conclusion. “I did not come here to fight, or to bring harm to Eywa’s children,” he said placidly, tilting his head to the side. “I have no interest in this planet’s resources. What I seek is… not native to Pandora.” A wind ruffled his hair and something dainty and white danced across his vision. He went slightly cross-eyed as he watched it land on his nose. A slight smile curled the ends of his lips as he felt more of them dance across his hands. Looking down, he could see them brush along his arms as well. “Now you choose to recognize me?” He murmured, amusement colouring his voice. He was sure this time that he heard laughter in the wind.

Around him the Na’vi had stilled. Whispers of Eywa and _atokirina_ rising, voices ebbing and flowing.

“You wish for us to bring you to our most sacred place, to speak with our Mother Eywa,” Mo’at said finally, her eyes focused on the _atokirina_ that still rested on his form.

“I do,” Harry nodded, dislodging the one on his nose. It fluttered to his shoulder and settled there instead, gently tickling his neck.

“Very well,” she nodded after glancing at Eytukan. The leader inclined his head in agreement, though his steely gaze never left Harry.

Tsu’tey stepped forward, mouth opening to protest, but Eytukan raised a hand to silence him. “We will honour your request. But know this, Harry Potter. Should you attempt to bring harm to the Sacred Mother or our people, we will not hesitate to cut you down.”

Harry bowed deeply. “I would expect no less,” he smiled as he straightened. Grace was staring at him with a rather jealous expression, and Jakesully just looked a little lost.

He was escorted by Tsu’tey and Neytiri, who managed to wrangle permission for Jakesully to accompany them. “He is one of the people now,” she insisted. In the end, despite Tsu’tey’s angry protests, the Avatar driver was allowed to accompany them, though he was not allowed to approach the tree itself. Behind them, a group of warriors followed.

The Na’vi were tall and fast, and did not seem to care whether Harry could keep up or not. Jakesully had looked as if he wanted to offer his help a few times, but when Harry showed no trouble matching their pace, he stopped.

Harry, personally, was enjoying himself. The ground shifted beneath him, blurring slightly, and every step he took matched that of the Na’vi, as if space itself had shrunk to fit his stride. The world around them passed in vivid colour, bursting with such life as he had not seen for many, many years on earth.

He could sense when they drew near. He could feel _Her_. Her presence was strong and kind and it swept through him curiously and cheerily. He couldn’t help but grin as he approached. Petty… no, Harry realized as her presence circled around him. She wasn’t being petty. She was being playful. Mischievous. He chuckled as he approached the Tree of Voices under the watchful gaze of the Na’vi. He bowed deeply, then straightened. He tilted his head for a moment to listen, then stepped forward and raised his hands to feel along the glowing strands that hung from her branches. They glowed under his touch, warm with life.

“My Lady,” he said. “I do apologize for my tardiness. It was not intended as a slight. I come to you now upon your request. I have investigated, and though the bodies of the humans have returned to earth, their souls have indeed lingered. I do fear that if they are not dealt with, they may fester, spreading their taint where it does not belong.” He closed his eyes as he heard her voice, a gentle murmuring, and flashes of images across his vision.

“I would be most pleased to collect them, if you can stand my presence a while longer.” He smiled. “Of course it is no hardship for me. You are most beautiful, My Lady. Ah, don’t tell Gaia I said that,” he added hastily. “She’s a little insecure right now. I have assured her that it’s just a phase, but…” He shrugged.

Then he blinked and turned to Jakesully. “Oh?” He murmured curiously. “Really,” he tilted his head. Jakesully, who had been giving him odd looks, shifted under the weight of his gaze. “I don’t know,” Harry murmured, tapping his lips thoughtfully. “Death is rather possessive of his souls. You know how he is,” he quirked a smile. Then he laughed. “Hers too?” He glanced back at the tree. “He won’t be happy, you know. It might take a bit of convincing. But… well, we did make such a beautiful lady wait so very long for her request…”

The tree’s pink glow grew in intensity.

“Well then, if I have your permission, I shall begin right away. I’m afraid the souls have travelled far in their ire. I am eager to return them where they belong. And, of course, to explore your beauty,” he winked. Then he bowed again, deeply. He turned to leave before pausing for a moment and glancing back at the tree. “Ah, if I may,” he said, rubbing the back of his head, “if you are pleased with my work, perhaps you could put in a good word for me?” He asked hopefully. “I haven’t had a vacation in many centuries and Death has been making me work over time ever since that time with the alligator - “ he cut himself off sheepishly. “Well anyway,” he said, coughing lightly. “I would appreciate it greatly.” He beamed then, and turned back to the waiting Na’vi.

He bowed again. “Thank you for your escort.” He said, ignoring their odd stares.

“Dude…” Jakesully said as Harry approached him, “What… are you?”

Harry wanted to pat Jakesully’s head, but the Avatar was much to tall for that, so he settled for patting him on the arm instead. “Harry Potter,” he said, yet again. “Minion of Death, at your service.” He stared the man in the eye. “You’re one of Eywa’s now, though. As is Grace Augustine. When you die, you’ll become part of her. Still,” he said, cocking his head to look at Tsu’tey and Neytiri, “if the time comes and you are truly in need, I will heed your call. I will not touch the children of Eywa, but human souls are under my jurisdiction. And Death does not care if they return to him early.” He smiled with all of his teeth. “So call me, if you truly need.” He waved a hand. “Ta.”

Then he was gone, and the Na’vi blinked, as if coming out of a daze. Tsu’tey shook his head with a frown. They had been… escorting… he glanced at Jakesully with dislike, and huffed out a breath. “Let us return to Hometree,” He said, stalking off into the jungle. He had done his duty, showing one of their most sacred spaces to the demon in false skin. There was no need to linger.

The others followed. Jakesully paused, glancing back at the tree, before shaking his head and following Neytiri, who leapt ahead of him.

Laughter echoed in the wind.


End file.
